Calling it
by tree979
Summary: Chance forces Guerrero into an up close and personal confrontation full of pre-slash snark.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but ideas.**

**Author's note: So, you love a nice bit of Chance/Guerrero slash (Charrero?) but ffnet gets its knickers in a twist over anything TOO explicit. Hmm.**

**Okay then I'l post part 1 here, but part 2 (with all the naughty bits) will be over on the archive of our own website (google it) - when I get around to posting it. Not had as much time for writing fic since I started writing original fiction but I just can't help myself when a Charrero plot bunny strikes!**

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"Dude!"

Chance backed away quickly, out of immediate danger. Guerrero was pissed. If it had been anyone else who'd tried snapping a set of cuffs on him, anchoring him to the old cast iron radiator in a long forgotten, disused storeroom, he would've skipped right over pissed, angry and furious straight into violent, but this was Chance. Allowances were made, however grudgingly at times. Truthfully no one else could have gotten close enough to pull the manoeuvre off, and there was probably no one stupid or suicidal enough to even try.

"Sorry." Chance winced. He did feel genuine remorse for restraining Guerrero, but the lengths he was prepared to go to were a measure of how badly he needed his friend's full, undivided attention. It was, after all, for Guerrero's own good.

The cuffs were of better than average construction, so Chance figured he had maybe a minute or two before Guerrero managed to slip free of their grip. He'd toyed with idea of slipping something into Guerrero's tea, but he didn't want to risk using anything that might mess with his judgement, although the idea of dealing with a more compliant Guerrero was looking a lot more attractive now that he was facing down that dead, grey-eyed stare.

"Don't be sorry, be smart," Guerrero said. "Unlock the cuffs and maybe…" he paused, narrowing his eyes as he peered at him over the top of his glasses, "… just maybe I'll let you get through the rest of today without you needing anything surgically removed from somewhere intimate and uncomfortable."

Chance knew he was pushing his luck with the unintentional little huff of laughter that slipped out, but he didn't quite manage to stop it. The look he got from Guerrero seemed to drop the temperature in the room by another forty degrees or so.

"Intimate and uncomfortable," Chance repeated, biting the inside of his cheek and stared at the ground by Guerrero's feet for a moment. "Funny you should say that..."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Guerrero sounded more exasperated than angry now, which probably meant that he was at least halfway to springing the cuffs open.

Chance was running out of time. He glanced at the door. It was pretty sturdy, nice and solid with two locks plus a dead bolt that should buy him a few more minutes. _Minutes that you're wasting…_

Chance let out an explosive breath that he hadn't been aware he'd been holding. Stupidly he'd thought that the hard part would be leading Guerrero to this room and making sure he stuck around long enough to hear what he had to say, not trying to find the words themselves. Why hadn't he planned exactly what he was going to say? Usually he had no problem flying by the seat of his pants, but now it came to it, he didn't know what the hell he was doing, and time was trickling away from him.

Under normal circumstances, Guerrero didn't really have any tells, but when it came down to going toe-to-toe with Chance there was always a brief moment a split second before he struck when his eyes got this look that said: "You really want to do this? Fine. We'll do this." It was all the warning Chance had that Guerrero had dealt with the cuffs. Between one breath and the next, Chance found himself flung back against the wall, Guerrero's forearm braced across his throat.

"Still waiting for an explanation here, bro." Guerrero's irritation seemed to have dissipated somewhat now he was free from the cuffs, and his voice had taken on a flatter, more business-like tone.

Chance bit down on his lower lip, struggling to find the right words, but when he saw Guerrero's eyes dart down to track the movement he gambled on action instead. It was awkward, and Chance had to momentarily cut off his own air supply by pressing forward against Guerrero's restraining arm, but he managed to lurch forward just far enough to brush his lips briefly against Guerrero's.

_Intimate and uncomfortable_. The words ran through Chance's head as he closed his eyes and let it thump backwards onto the wall, letting his mouth fall open so he could a draw deep shuddering breath whilst he waited for Guerrero's reaction.

Nothing.

Chance opened his eyes.

"What was that?" Guerrero sounded genuinely puzzled by his actions. He frowned slightly but left his arm where it was, holding Chance in place, pinned against the wall.

"What do you think it was?" Chance would have guessed that kissing someone and getting no response would be the most humiliating outcome, but apparently it could still get worse if the person getting kissed refused to even recognise the attempt.

"I think it was a bolt from the fucking blue, and I think you're gonna explain what the hell is going on."

"Diablo's." Chance knew it was probably too much to hope for that he would put it all together from just one word, but if anyone could make the deductive leap it was Guerrero. Besides, there was at least a fifty/fifty shot that he knew exactly what Chance was referring to and was just fucking with him.

"You've been following me," Guerrero said without a particular inflection to indicate how he felt about that. Chance swallowed a smart-assed reply, and nodded instead. He hoped that it would be enough.

When he found out that Guerrero's frequent trips to the strip club, his first instinct had been that he was working some kind of angle, possibly blackmailing a wealthy client who would rather have kept their patronage of the club a secret, but further investigation proved that Guerrero was far more interested in a particular bartender than any of the clientele. Guerrero didn't tend to take a personal interest in other people, but for some reason he just couldn't seem to stay away from the fair-haired barman who went by the unlikely name Angel.

"You can't go back there," Chance said. "To Diablo's. There's gonna be an ATF bust there either tonight or tomorrow. I can't be sure which."

Guerrero raised one cynical eyebrow. "I know."

Chance's stomach lurched. "You knew the place was under surveillance but you still kept going back there?"

"Off course I knew about the raid. A client's brother has been moonlighting there, and I was being paid to extract him before the shit hit the fan." Guerrero tilted his head to one side. "You didn't know it was business, did you? You thought I was there to get my kicks."

Chance's face felt hot, and as much as he'd like to just brazen his way through it, he knew he didn't have a chance in hell of pulling it off, not with Guerrero, and certainly not after trying to kiss him. _Shit._

"Maybe," Chance muttered.

"You are un-fucking-believable, dude," Guerrero sighed. "You get it into your head that I'm banging some man-whore bartender-"

"Hey, we both know it's not beyond the realm of possibility!" Chance interrupted.

Guerrero raised an eyebrow at that, as if Chance had surprised him.

"Seattle," Chance said by way of explanation.

"Technically that was a three-way," Guerrero countered.

"Are you saying you didn't…?"

Guerrero stared at him for a moment. "No. Not that it's any of your business, but I'm not."

"And I'm pretty sure that was the only time you-"

"Seriously, dude? You keep track of who I'm fucking?"

Chance shrugged. "You don't exactly volunteer information about yourself, Guerrero."

"You noticed that, huh?"

"Hey, I wouldn't have even known about your kid if I hadn't have-"

"Do not bring my son into this." Guerrero's voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. "That is not cool."

Chance knew he'd gone too far, and suddenly getting back to the subject of the bartender seemed much more appealing. "He's blond."

"What?"

"The bartender you're obsessed with, at the club. Angel. He's got blond hair. Blue eyes."

"Dude, first of all I'm not obsessed with him. I was being paid to get him out of there before the Feds raided the place, and against my better judgement, I agreed to do it without the use of force." Guerrero paused for a second, and seemed to remember for the first time that he still had his arm braced against Chance's throat. He let his arm drop back down to his side but didn't back away. "And second, what does the colour of his hair have to do with anything?"

"Nothing, except maybe a passing resemblance…" Chance spread his hands.

"To you?"

Chance shrugged.

Guerrero shook his head. "Okay, you're losing me here, bro."

Chance closed his eyes. "That's what I was afraid of…"

"So you figured you'd just throw yourself at me? Make me forget all about my secret gay lover until after he got picked up on drugs charges? It's the FBI that's planning to raid the place, by the way, not the ATF." Guerrero wasn't actually laughing, but Chance could hear the smirk in his voice.

"It's not fucking funny, Guerrero."

"Actually, if you thought I was screwing around with some kid just because he had a passing resemblance to you, it kinda is."

Chance's eyes few open, just in time to see an affectionate amusement in the look Guerrero was giving him. "So you admit there is a resemblance then?" he asked.

"Maybe a little," Guerrero conceded, "but seeing as I'm not actually fucking the guy, it's neither here nor there, is it?"

"I guess not." Chance could hear the disappointment in his own voice and it made him sick. He knew he'd blown it the second he'd pressed his lips against Guerrero's and felt zero response, but somehow talking about it was far, far worse.

"So, how far were you willing to go?" Guerrero asked.

"Huh?"

"To lure me away from the bartender. Were you planning a hot little bondage scene for the both of us down here with the cuffs, or were you just going to throw yourself on my dick like it was a live grenade?"

Chance sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. "Fine, it was a dumb idea, okay? Can we just forget it?"

"I'm just a little fascinated with this whole idea that I'm so desperate to fuck you that I'm using a lookalike…"

"Y'know, it's kinda musty down here," Chance said, looking around as if he was noticing their surroundings for the first time. "All this dust, it's gonna set off my allergies. I'm just gonna head back now."

"Dude, you don't have allergies, and if you wanna go, just go. You're the one who dragged me down here."

Somehow Chance knew, even before his fingers slipped inside the pocket where he'd stashed the keys, that they were gone. Guerrero's face was carefully expressionless, which in its own way was an admission of guilt.

"You gonna give me back the keys, or are you just gonna stand there and watch whist I pick the locks?" Chance sighed.

"Depends," Guerrero smirked.

"On what?"

"Whether you give up you source. Who tipped you off about the bartender?"

"Does it even matter?"

"If someone has been tailing me, then yeah. You know it does."

"It's not an issue. Don't sweat it."

Guerrero narrowed his eyes. "Don't sweat it? Well that narrows it down."

"It was just a misunderstanding…"

"Someone we both know…"

"Guerrero, forget it!"

"Who isn't smart enough to read a situation, or keep his mouth shut…"

"Seriously, it's no big deal…"

"… and you don't see him as a threat…"

Understanding dawned.

"He's harmless!" Chance insisted.

"He's a fucking liability, dude."

"Look, it's my bad, okay?" Chance said. "He had this crazy theory and I… I should have known better."

"One of these days I'm gonna kill Harry."

"But not today."

Guerrero sighed. "No, probably not today. How come the little worm found out what was going on?"

Chance laughed. "This is Harry we're talking about. It was just dumb luck."

Guerrero shook his head, but the keys still weren't forthcoming.

"So, are you going to unlock the door or not?" Chance asked.

"Seems to me that we still have a bigger issue to deal with first."

Chance huffed out a breath and rubbed at the back of his neck. "I was hoping maybe we could just skip past that…"

"Not a chance in hell, bro. You wouldn't have fallen for Harry's bullcrap if you hadn't wanted it to be true, and you certainly wouldn't have reacted this way if you weren't working your own angle."

"I'm not working an angle!"

"Yeah, right." Guerrero stepped closer, crowding Chance and keeping him pinned against the wall with nothing more than his close proximity. "You could have just given me the heads up about the raid without offering to be my substitute fuck buddy."

Chance ran his tongue nervously over his lips, and Guerrero's eyes again flicked down to follow the movement. Chance could almost taste him, and seeing as Guerrero had already sussed out what he was up to and had pretty much laughed in his face, his dignity was pretty much toast.

_No reason why I shouldn't just kiss him now. He's gonna be laughing his ass off about this anyway…_

Only Guerrero didn't laugh.

...

**To be continued... but not here. Find me over at the ****archive of our own website (google it)** where there is no censorship!


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: Here is a little teaser of part 2. If you want to read the chapter in full check it out at Archive of Our Own. It's a fanfic website that doesn't place any restrictions on fic content, so if you're old enough to be reading explicit content google "tree979" and "archive of our own", and you should be able to find list of my works there.**

**FFnet won't let me post a direct link, but if you have trouble finding the link to the rest of the story find me on Twitter and I'll tweet you a link (I'm tree979 there too).**

**Thanks for your patience!**

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Guerrero stole control of the kiss, yanking Chance down to meet his lips, so fucking eager that Chance's legs might have buckled beneath him were he not trapped with the wall against his back.

It was a setup; it had to be. Guerrero's responses were not those of a man who'd just had this situation sprung on him; he kissed like he'd been thinking about it, planning and anticipating…

Chance managed to tear his mouth away, snatching a breath as Guerrero bit down on his shoulder and unfastened Chance's jeans one-handed.

He groaned. "There's no way Harry could've seen you at Diablo's without your knowledge." Chance blurted it out, knowing that once Guerrero got his hands in his pants he wouldn't or couldn't call him on it. "You set this up. Is there even… oh fuck…"


End file.
